Waking Up Dead
by hedgehogkween
Summary: Prumano. Initially based on the movie "Warm Bodies", but stick with me there's more to this. Rated T for Gilbert talking like it's the 60's.


The first thing he noted when he awoke was the sloshing of something cold and wet at his feet. He raised his head, just enough to see his body resting half submerged in what appeared to be a small urban river. A low groan escaped his throat as he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked himself over. He was wearing a torn pair of black shorts- they could have been longer at some point, the shredding at the edges made it hard to tell- and a heavy black coat that ended just above his knees. He looked inside of the coat for some form of identification, finding a small tag with a marker-written word bleeding into it in pen; "Lovino." Could that be his name? He decided it must have been. Lovino scowled and glanced around him. Everything seemed to be dark, as if a storm of sorts was coming. He found a discarded fencepost and heaved himself up with it, using it as a crutch to hobble up the riverbank and get a better look at the area. It looked like a small town, or it would have were it not for the partially collapsed skyscrapers that jutted up on the horizon every so often. The remaining buildings were only moderately destroyed. Broken windows, chipped and peeling paint, dust covering things inside of shops. What on earth had happened there? A flash of movement caught his eye and he jumped away, only to see a large rat scuttle along the ground past him. Without thinking he abandoned his crutch, scooped it up, sunk his teeth into its neck, and tore the head off. He blinked, realizing what he'd done and throwing the creature back down.

_"What the hell is wrong with me?"_

He ran away from the place he had been until he felt as if his legs would fall off, looking back only to see that he was just yards from the place he had been. He could still see the small body, the head laying face-up with the neck stump nestled into the ground, turning the asphalt a sickening, coppery red. He shuddered, continuing down the street in the opposite direction of the gruesome sight. A shaky hand found its way to his lips, brushing along the row of broken-glass teeth that filled his mouth. He pulled his hand away to find multiple small slivers in his fingers, but not a drop of blood in sight. He sped his walking a little more and kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Was he some kind of freak? That had to be it. After all, normal people didn't tear off heads. Normal people wouldn't touch a rat with their mouths. Normal people didn't have teeth like glass. Glass… He stopped in front of a store with unbroken windows, looking at his reflection. Lifeless eyes stared back at him, shaded by auburn hair. He frowned a little at one curl that stuck up defiantly, tugging down at it and tucking it under the rest of his hair. For a moment he looked almost normal before it sprung up again. He continued tucking and letting it bounce before he became impatient- which didn't take long- and let it be, looking over the rest of his features. He reminded himself of a lifelike corpse, some sort of mortician's masterpiece come to life. He wasn't dead though, unless he was in heaven. He glanced around him. A cockroach crawled along the street behind him, at least three inches long, it's little antennae inspecting a manhole cover before it was snatched up by a seagull and carried off. If this was heaven, then it had seriously gone down the shitter. He hated to see what hell must be like. No, this was certainly no heaven of his. Lovino shook his head and continued along the road, staring down at his shoes. The weight of silence settled on his slowly until he kicked a rock, blinking a few times at the noise. Where were all of the people? Surely they had been here at one point, shops didn't just build themselves, did they? He looked up and down the street, in all of the windows, down alleys, and finally behind him. Small, beady sets of eyes rose from the shadows, all fixed on him. Humanlike figured stepped out, hunched over a bit, stumbling around. They were all… off. He took a few hesitant steps toward one, tilting up is head but dropping it almost immediately. Its eyes were gone. Bloody sockets stared back at him, one stuffed with what appeared to be a cellophane wrapper, the other left with splatter marks around it. A hole went through the second that made it all the way to the other side of his head, patches of hair barely visible. He looked at the others. Although some had cold, lifeless eyes, they were all in similar condition; some hair missing, clothes torn, teeth like glass… they were all like him. He took a few small steps away. They still seemed to watch him. His eyes darted around wildly from face to face, hunger evident in each one, before breaking into a run. Dead. These people were all dead. But how could they walk if they were dead? And how were there so many of them? A movie poster caught his eye not far away and he stopped to stare; "Night of the Living Dead." The poster looked fairly new, if not a big ratty due to the obvious circumstances. The world had turned into zombies.

_"No, that's crazy… that kind of thing only happens in movies."_

The sound of gunfire snapped him from his thoughts. He saw what looked like a person- a real person- running in a street parallel to the one he was on. They were at least moving fast enough to be alive. None of the others he had seen could make it more than a few shuffling steps at a time, and they didn't seem able to hold anything, let along guns. He made his way to the opposite side of the alley he'd seen the person dodge into, watching them a moment. For every step they took back he took one himself until the other collided with him. In seconds he found that he had toppled over onto the ground, staring down the barrel of the person's rifle. He looked up at the person and his eyes went wide. They had silvery white hair, although it clearly wasn't an elderly person, and red eyes. _Red eyes_. He backed away a little, the reflection of his own terror-stricken face staring at him through the reflection of the man's eyes. It had to be a man. He stared at him for a moment, seeming to decide that he was a living person and lowering the gun slowly. It was now that Lovino could see all of the person's body, decided that he was definitely a man. He wore an old tank-top and a red sweater with the sleeves cut off at the elbows, presumably for something that involved either black paint or oil based of the stains on his hands. The man grinned, swinging the rifle over his shoulder and holding a hand out to Lovino.

"I thought we were the only living people left in this place… you're damn lucky we hadn't left yet, you would have been stuck here with all these dead-heads." He laughed loudly. Lovino stared at him a while before taking his hand, the other pulling him up roughly. "Name's Gilbert." He looked at Lovino expecting to hear his name. Lovino brushed himself off, looked at Gilbert's hand, and tugged his away. "What, you don't want to say yours?" he frowned. "Fine, whatever, I don't care… we should probably be heading home soon though, unless you don't want to come back with me. It's a hell of a lot safer than staying out here." He started back down the alley, glancing back after a few steps. Lovino watched him go for a few moments before taking a few small steps, then running to catch up with him. Gilbert gave him a toothy smirk.

"Groovy. Come on, I parked my ride up ahead." He hooked an arm around Lovino's and pulled him along, causing him to stumble behind him as he ran. He stopped when they reached the edge of the building they his behind, glancing around the open street before stepping out. Lovino glanced around as well, seeing nothing until Gilbert continued walking toward a chopper.

"Here she is. I haven't had time to work on her much with, y'know, dead-heads and stuff… I've done my best to keep her from getting all gnarly at least. She doesn't look like much now, but that engine purrs like a kitten once it gets going." He swung a leg over and sat down, scooting over and patting the seat behind him. Lovino stared a moment before hesitantly doing the same, gripping the back of Gilbert's sweater.

"You're going to want to get a better grip then that kid." He raised an eyebrow, revving the engine. This startled Lovino so much that he accidentally allowed his arms to slip around the other's middle, not letting go for fear of flying off. Gilbert laughed again and started the bike, whizzing past the buildings so fast that you could barely tell the windows were broken anymore. Lovino kept his eyes fixed on the ground, glancing up only to sneak a glance at the short, silvery hair blowing behind the other. White hair on a boy his age couldn't be normal. He didn't look older than twenty-five, probably younger. Lovino figured that he was about nineteen based off of his appearance, although it had been hard to tell what exactly he looked like in the dirty glass. He felt something creep over one of his hands and he frowned, looking around Gilbert to see his hand wrapped around Lovino's.

"You have cold hands, you know that? They're like ice cubes… how long have you been out here anyway?" he asked, glancing back at him. Lovino said nothing. What could he say, that he didn't know? That he'd woken up in a river with no memory of who he was? That he was probably _dead?_ Gilbert took his silence as the other ignoring him, slowing the bike to a stop.

"You know, if you really don't want to talk to me, you didn't have to come with me." He grumbled. Lovino opened his mouth but shut it again, wracking his brain for something he could do. Gilbert rolled his eyes and climbed off of the bike. "Whatever, we're here anyway. Home sweet home." He pulled the bike the rest of the way into a parking space before gesturing up at what appeared to be his home. Tall, stone walls with a wrought iron gate surrounded the land. Several buildings inside sat looking down at them judgingly, each about three stories high. Two buildings in particular sat on either side of the entrance gate, one of which Gilbert started toward.

"It's a high school for foreign students… well, it was. We all sort of live here now. The place has a crazy supply of non-perishables in just the boy's dorms alone, plus the school has its own set of generators so we still have limited power. Lights in most buildings, refrigerators and stuff in the kitchens… we've repurposed the entertainment centers though, but we still have a working garage. It's pretty bitchin' actually, I get to spend all day down there when I'm not on patrol." He went to the gate, looking up through it before passing it completely. A tall bush beside the building turned out to be hiding a hole in the wall large enough to crawl through. Lovino didn't discover this until he found that Gilbert was on the other side of the wall, and Gilbert found that Lovino hadn't followed him through. It took a moment to explain, by which time they had been noticed by the inhabitants of the dormitory. One was waiting for them at the door, holding a laptop in one arm. Gilbert didn't notice him until they had nearly bumped into each other.

"Jeezus Honda, don't sneak up on me like that!" he shouted. The boy just stared, his expression unchanged.

"I am sorry Gilbert. You were taking quite a long time on your patrol, your brother was afraid that you weren't coming back." He replied. Gilbert huffed at him, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, do you guys really think I'd let that happen to myself? Nah, I just found another survivor. Figured I'd bring him back because, you know, dead-heads and all. Didn't want him to get eaten or anything. You guys must think I'm some kind of spaz if you think I'd let myself get eaten…" he grumbled, rolling his eyes and looking to Lovino. "Oh, you, uh… this is Kiku, tech specialist around here. He's a pretty cool guy." He grinned a bit, nudging the other with his elbow. Kiku looked Lovino over, holding out a hand to shake. Lovino took it reluctantly, grateful that the other didn't comment on his cold hands.

"Konchiwa." He greeted quietly, giving Lovino a small nod. Lovino glanced away, looking around the extensive hallway they were in. He couldn't tell whether the damage was a result of the undead infestation or the wear and tear of having boys living there for years. Most likely a mix of both. Portraits hung on the walls of important looking people, likely founders of the school, all of which had moustaches, goatees, and obscenities scribbled on them in colored pen. Names and initials were carved into the wallpaper, and other images of what could have been either battle plans or football formations. The ceilings looked relatively untouched, being far above them and graced only by splatters of paintball guns and cobwebs. If it were any more obvious that this place had been home to boys for years they would still be running around, kicking footballs through windows and such, but the place was almost eerily silent. Whenever there was a gap in their speaking he could hear the other two breathing, but not himself. He didn't make a sound.

"He does not speak?" came a soft voice. Lovino blinked a few times and his eyes rested on Kiku, who appeared to be talking to Gilbert.

"Yeah, he won't talk for some reason. I think he's just being a square about it…"

"Perhaps he's a mute?" They both looked at Lovino.

"I dunno, maybe…" Gilbert muttered, looking him over again. "He doesn't look like a mute." Kiku gave Gilbert a strange look, but shrugged and went back to his computer.

"Well you should still probably go speak with your brother, he and Felicia are worried about you." Gilbert rolled his eyes, starting down the hall in a direction. Lovino followed after a moment, showing temporary interest in whatever Kiku was doing on his computer. Whatever it was it was beyond him, although there were a lot of what looked like names. How many people lived here?

As they progressed further into the building it started to look a little different. There were no more portraits, many of the dormitories had missing doors and some had pieces of furniture missing. In a few the walls had even been knocked out for sort of makeshift clinics or massive bedrooms with cots or medical supplies lining the walls. He started to look inside one but Gilbert pulled him out.

"You'll get to see those later. For now, we're going to see my baby bro." he stopped when they reached a staircase that went down, leading them into a maze of narrow hallways. "You see, I don't think they really used this area for anything before the infestation, but they never bothered to get rid of it because it would have cost the school a lot of money and time, and since there are kids here year round they couldn't do that. But now, we've got a little workshop going. We make weapons and stuff for taking out dead-heads. It's totally tuff." He slowed a bit when they reached a door, shoving it open and stumbling a bit when it went in so easily.

"Hey, what's up? You always put something in front of the door…" he muttered, looking at the figure in the room. It was a large person, bigger than Gilbert- and by extension bigger than Lovino. They didn't look remotely related. Upon the other lifting his welding mask Lovino could see that he had short, neat blonde hair and blue eyes, completely opposite from Gilbert. He glanced at Gilbert before his eyes found Lovino, and he frowned.

"Who's your friend?" he mumbled, taking an old rag from the table he was working on and wiping his forehead with it. Gilbert stepped next to him and looked back at Lovino.

"I found him an alley in town, snuck up on me…" he muttered. "But he seems cool. I think he's clean." The blonde looked him over, frowning a little. Lovino stared back at him, unsure of what to say even if he would speak. He glanced at the table to see what the other had been working on. It appeared to be a steel baseball bat with nails sticking into it. Whether he was removing or putting in the nails was untellable, but it was clearly something powerful to knock even a living person's head off with a single swing.

"So, does he have a name?" Lovino frowned a little, looking at the man. He gulped, reaching a hand inside of his jacket for the tag and tearing it off, handing it to him. He raised an eyebrow but took it. "Lo…vino? Lovino?" he asked. He nodded in conformation. Gilbert grinned a bit.

"Sounds Italian, like Felicia. Hey, where is she anyway?"

"You probably scared her off with all of your noise…" Gilbert scowled and punched his brother playfully, looking around the workshop. "Hey Felicia, sorry if I spooked ya, you can come out now!" he said, looking around under tables and behind shelves. Lovino watched skeptically for a moment before his eyes fell back to Gilbert's brother, to whom he gave a shaky, forced grin. He noticed that the other had his hand held out to him and he shook it.

"I suppose it's good to have another person here. We need all of the people we can get if we're to fight the infestation. My name is Ludwig." He gave Lovino a small nod. Lovino was about to make some sort of reply when he felt something around his ankles. He looked down and saw a tawny-brown creature winding around his legs.

"Hey, there she is!" came Gilbert's voice as he picked the creature up. It appeared to be a cat, splotched in a darker mocha brown on one ear and again on her back. "This is Felicia. She's Ludwig's substitute for having an actual girlfriend since me and her are the only ones who want to deal with him-" Gilbert was cut off by a sharp whack in the back of the head from the gloved hand of his brother. He laughed it off and swatted his hand away, handing the cat to Lovino. She sat in his arms and stretched, her claws digging into his shoulder. Lovino felt no pain, but he did notice that she looked confused when she couldn't tug her claws out as easily as she had slipped them in. He helped her tug them out just before either brother was able to see, holding her like a baby over his shoulder.

"Maybe you should show your new friend around? Introduce him to the others, find him a room?" Ludwig suggested. Gilbert rolled his eyes, starting for the door again.

"Yeah, yeah… come on Lo-vee-no." he muttered. Lovino frowned a little, letting the cat jump from his arms onto the table Ludwig was working on before going after Gilbert.


End file.
